Tag Archives: rhetoric

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“Mere?” Not so Much.

Models, Problem Practices, Rhetorical Mastery, , , , , , , , , ,

 Individuals who flatter themselves by being about “action” must ultimately face the undeniable fact that survival in American life depends on the water of communication.  What we say matters. A lot. 

In parched California, getting caught watering the sidewalk rather than a patch of grass is likely to annoy neighbors.  And a clueless homeowner’s response that what is involved is “merely” water won’t help.  Everyone understands  what’s at stake.  Water makes life possible.

My incredulity matches those neighbors when I hear someone dismiss another’s comments by noting that those expressions are “mere rhetoric.”  In my field this is the professional equivalent of a thumb in the eye.  I’ll give the phrase it’s due; it hangs around our public discussion like mosquitoes in a Michigan summer.  But it’s a misguided thought.

We use the “mere” put-down to devalue someone’s words, usually on the mistaken assumption that we have other means for understanding each other.  In the usual form, the preferred reality is to preference “deeds” over words.  And that is sometimes the case.  For example, we generally expect that people will act on their stated intentions: that their behavior matters. But even in such cases we are also interested in making conclusions about character based on spoken promises.  Individuals who flatter themselves by being about “action” must ultimately face the undeniable fact that survival in American life depends on the water of communication.  What we say matters.  A lot.

The “mere rhetoric” mistake is often spoken by reporters and politicians, the very folks who most need to acknowledge the debt they owe to the fluency of others.  Their fuzzy thinking sometimes comes with a statement such as this:  “For the moment let’s set aside all the rhetoric about this subject and get to the point about what’s at stake.”  This supposed set-aside is then followed by. . . well. . . more language. Staring at each other in complete silence isn’t much of an option. Not understanding our debt to words shows the same kind of lack of self awareness that allows someone to worry about the government “taking over” Medicare.

Over the centuries thinkers have wondered if there isn’t a better cure to misunderstanding than via verbal pathways.  Most have usually ended up with a synthetic symbol system that mimics mathematics.  No one ever misunderstands what “2” means.  And we don’t think others are hurling abuse in our direction if they talk about a “dozen.”  Mathematical language has the virtue and liability of being completely stipulative.

Football on television is functionally as much about the announcing as the action on the field.  Try watching an entire game without the sound.

But our expressive needs require more.  We revel in rhetoric that is loaded, judgmental, evocative and sometimes rude.  We seek out people who use beautiful constructions that engross and engage.  And this isn’t just in the realms of the novel or poetry. Football on television is functionally as much about the announcing as the action on the field.  Try watching an entire game without the sound.  Similarly, a judgment in the form of a letter grade often matters more to a student than their actual work.  And parents rejoice when their young children begin to pass through the threshold of literacy.

To be sure, we are theoretically capable of stepping back from the rhetorical world.  But the requirements are harsh and, for most of us, not very welcoming.  Lock yourself away in a silent place.  Don’t talk. Don’t listen to others.  And try to control the verbal chatter of a rhetorical mind that can probably run circles around  even your most loquacious relative.  It’s not fun to be denied the gifts of utterance.

The scholar Kenneth Burke reminded us that “Language is equipment for living.”  We are toilers and pleasure seekers in the information age, often allowing our bodies to wither while our heads surf through endless waves of verbiage.  Even social scientists who pride themselves on being rigorous empiricists usually end up studying verbal behavior most of the time.  As for the neuroscientists who often use brain scans to seek the origins of our actions?  Well, that’s mere neuroscience.  The human mind is more than the organ of the brain.  It’s the source and signature of our verbally constructed selves.

The Power of Rhetorical Transcendence

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President Barack Obama and his congressional rival, John Boehner. AFP/Getty Images
President Barack Obama and his congressional rival,                 John Boehner.   AFP/Getty Images

Think of “transcendence” as a verbal bridge: a single word or phrase that narrows the gap between two views to the point where “opposing sides” almost disappear. 

The title for this short piece may sound hopelessly arcane.  But these are the exact words that should be used to describe what is a simple yet significant process for turning conflict into agreement.  The power is real and the process is useful.

The word “rhetoric” has few friends.  But it’s the right word to describe the daily chatter that emanates from us from morning until the end of the day.  We are not fact machines, but rhetorical machines.  We are not cameras, but practical artists:  rendering in the brush strokes of our own style what we have witnessed in life. The truth is that we routinely bend the world to our perceptions.  Apart from some forms of mathematical or programming language, our discourse is a complete mix of words and expressions that name as well as judge.  And because we usually do this to seek acceptance and agreement with others, we are—for good and ill—rhetorical.

Think of “transcendence” as a verbal bridge: a single word or phrase that narrows the gap between two views to the point where “opposing sides” almost disappear.  One of the virtues of thinking rhetorically is that it is easier to imagine escapes from hopeless impasses with others by thinking creatively about this kind of language of agreement.  If we sometimes use words as grenades that scare off potential supporters, transcendent ideas do the reverse.  So if someone baits another by calling the Affordable Care Act as “socialized medicine,” the impression is clear that there’s an unbridgeable divide that separates that person from a supporter.  That the program encourages people to sign up mostly with private insurers ought to be enough to get the flame thrower to pull back from such toxic language.   If not, there is still a rhetorical path to agreement. Different and more general words–sometimes called “ultimate terms”–can encompass the same subject area, but carry more of a tone of reassurance than threat.  As the critic Kenneth Burke noted, these terms tend to focus on values, first principles, common beliefs and the like.  So if we choose to describe the Act as a way to “guarantee a birthright of basic healthcare for every American,” it surely sounds better.  We recognize a “birthright” as a guarantee that comes with being a citizen of the country.  So while the lower end of the abstraction ladder includes terms or claims that still provoke disagreement–that insurance exchanges will actually work, that people will pay no more while still seeing their own doctors, and so on–the much broader “birthright” value is a point on which more Americans might find common ground.

Trancendance captureIn rhetorical terms, this is the point of transcendence.  It’s a universal principle or value where differences begin to yield to agreements.  So it is often the effective communicator who is capable of reframing an issue to find this point.  In public discussions and debates we often recognize the process of finding common values when an opponent probes the other side with a series of questions, for example: “Would you agree that no American should be sent into combat if a war does not involve our vital interests?”  “Can we both accept the idea that parents with children need adequate health coverage?”  “Can we start by accepting the principles enshrined in the First Amendment?”  Can we agree that all students in this city have a right to a good and comprehensive education?

So the ability to break through conflict is sometimes started—if rarely finished—by seeking the point of rhetorical transcendence where shared values are acknowledged by both sides.  That acknowledgment will not melt away conflicts.  But it’s often overlooked as a useful place to start.

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